


5 times Tony Stark ignored Peter Parker (but not for very long)

by umbrafix



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Getting to Know Each Other, Mentor/Protégé, No spoilers past Spiderman: Homecoming, Peter Parker's Field Trip to Stark Industries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-03-06 23:10:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18860854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/umbrafix/pseuds/umbrafix
Summary: In which Peter and Tony get to know each other gradually over a series of incidents, communicate far less awkwardly by message than in person, there are pigs, a field trip with spears, Peter lurks, Tony invents, they worry about each other and everything is sweet and nothing hurts.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve only just watched Spiderman Homecoming, and am very late to this party.  
> 

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mr Stark sighed. “FRIDAY, please message Happy immediately and tell him he’s an asshole. Sorry kid, he was just messing with you, I don’t have time for this. Shoot me a text if you need something.” And then he hung up.

1\. Calling

 

It’d been a couple of weeks since the whole test question of if Peter wanted to be an Avenger (and wow, it kept him up at night thinking about what-if-it-could-have-been-real) and now he got responses to his texts to Happy almost every day.

 

_Stopped a dog from getting run over today._

_A poodle._

_Do you think poodles mind the ridiculous haircuts they get?_

_Just patrolling the neighborhood._

_Stopped someone who was maybe going to mug someone_

_Heading home_

**_Ok_ **

_\---------------------_

_Had a chemistry quiz_

_Made some more web fluid_

_Running out of ingredients_

_Got a cat down from a tree._

_Got the same cat down from the same tree_

_Cats are vicious!!!_

_Someone drew graffiti of me!_

_< photo of stylized blue and red artwork on a wall>_

_Cool, right?_

_Man, having a spiderman curfew sucks_

**_Ok_ **

_\--------------------_

 

The next night he got home (yes, before his spider-curfew; that was an argument he did _not_ want to have with May again!) and found a paper bag on his bed with ‘Supplies, use responsibly – TS’ written on it. After a quick check to see May wasn’t going to burst in, he quickly unfolded the top to find several tubs and bottles of chemicals inside. And a Stark Industries pen.

 

_Yes! This is a lifesaver_

_Couldn’t really keep taking stuff from school_

_Thank Mr Stark for me_

_And say thanks for the pen_

**_Will do_ **

_Thanks!_

He went to bed with a happy little glow because Tony _fricking_ Stark had been thinking of him and sent him stuff.

 

\-------------------

_So I was wondering if Mr Stark has any more missions for me?_

_Karen said I have good command of almost 10 webbing modes now_

_so I’m totally ready_

_\-------------------_

_Hi Happy_

_Lots going on today_

_Stopped 2 muggings_

_And helped someone who almost got knocked over by a bike_

_They gave me a free cupcake_

_because they owned a bakery_

_not because they had one in their pocket_

**_Okay_ **

_\------------------------_

_Just got out of school, going on patrol_

**_Tony says hi_ **

Peter stared down at the phone, a shot of adrenaline making his fingers tremble. He pushed the costume he’d half-dug out of his bag back in, looked both ways down the alley, then back at the phone, biting his lip.

 

_Say hi back_

He hated himself as soon as he pressed send. That was a stupid thing to say. Was that a stupid thing to say?

 

_I mean, tell him everything’s good_

_the suit’s great_

_My aunt is being really cool about things now_

_mostly_

_Does he need me to do anything?_

_did you tell him thank you for the webbing stuff?_

**_Tell him yourself_ **

And there, under the last line, a number.

 

Peter gripped the phone with both hands and muttered to himself, “Mr Stark’s number. Okay, wow, well he wouldn’t have given it to you if he didn’t want you to use it, it must be okay, right? Like, he must want you to report in person now, because you’re doing a good job as Spiderman and he’s totally your mentor, and-“

 

He hit the number with his thumb before he could think better of it, and the phone switched to the dialing screen.

 

“Oh god, oh god, oh god.”

 

He lifted the phone to his ear, listening to the dialing tone with anxious anticipation.

 

“Yes?” The voice was somehow unexpected, and Peter’s breath caught in his throat. “Come on, come on, I don’t have all day. Shit, no, Dum-E – no, no!”

 

“Um,” said Peter.

 

There was an abrupt silence on the other end of the line, then, “Who is this?” And that was Mr Stark’s stern, no-nonsense voice. “How did you get this number? FRIDAY, trace this call, I want whoever-“

 

“Uh, Mr Stark?” Peter managed, eyes wide.

 

“Kid?” Mr Stark sounded incredulous. “Is that you? FRIDAY, is this Peter Parker?”

 

“Identity confirmed,” came FRIDAY’s voice in the background.

 

“What’s wrong? I’m not getting any vitals from the suit.”

 

“Nothing’s wrong,” Peter said. “And I’m not wearing it yet.”

 

The slightest pause. “Then why are you calling?”

 

“Um, I just wanted to give you a quick update. And to thank you. Mr Happy said I should. Call, I mean.”

 

Mr Stark sighed. “FRIDAY, please message Happy immediately and tell him he’s an asshole. Sorry kid, he was just messing with you, I don’t have time for this. Shoot me a text if you need something.” And then he hung up.

 

Peter stood there with the phone pressed to his ear for a few seconds, eyes flicking back and forth as he tried to catch up with the last minute.

 

“Right,” he said finally, lowering the phone and staring at the number on the screen. “Just messing with me. I knew that.” He hesitated for another moment, then saved the number as TS.

 

\-----------------------

_Hey Happy, going on patrol_

_Got home safe_

**_Okay_ **

\------------------------

_Going on patrol_

_Got home okay_

\------------------------

_Not patrolling tonight, have Spanish test tomorrow_

**_Ok_ **

\------------------------

 

A week went by. Two. He and Ned got great marks on their physics project. May was actually (maybe) gradually calming down about this whole Spiderman thing, not just pretending to. She still made him tell her everything he did (usually he understated everything dangerous, and overplayed the cat-in-tree angle, but he knew she knew he was doing it, and it seemed to work for them) and waited up every night he was out, but there was less tension in her face. She wasn’t happy with it, but she wasn’t trying to stop him either. She’d even loosened up on the curfew thing, as long as he called her by 11 to let her know if he was going to be out later.

 

He’d been discussing changes to his web formula with Karen, and when he mentioned it to Ned they came up with a suggestion that he thought might be really interesting. And sure, he could take a bit of the chemical from school, but it was nerve racking, and totally stealing, and-

 

_Hey, Happy, could I get some…_

 

He considered a moment and hit delete before sending.

 

He was in his room, homework scattered all over his desk, the dim light set at a level comfortable for his enhanced vision. The phone screen seemed to stare at him accusingly, and his fingers hovered over the keys for a moment. Cautiously, as though he expected the phone to scold him just for thinking about it, he backed up to the contacts and scrolled to T.

 

TS.

 

“Sure,” he said to himself. “He said if you ever needed anything. And he’s probably the one getting this stuff anyway. It probably wasn’t Happy. How would Happy have even know what was in my web fluid without asking? You might as well just…”

 

_Hi, could I get some CaCl2?_

_Peter_

 

He held his breath for a while after sending, waiting. Waiting. Mr Stark was probably too busy to notice when he got a message. Certainly from someone like Peter, who wasn’t very important. For the next half an hour, he watched his phone, tapping it every so often to stop the screen from growing dark. Eventually his aunt yelled that dinner was ready, and he sighed and slipped the phone in his pocket.

 

Still nothing by midnight, when he forced himself to go to bed. He’d message Happy in the morning. It’d be fine.

 

\-------------------

 

The buzz of his phone against his fingers woke him, and he jerked half upright in the dark, heart pounding, before he realized where he was. Subsiding back down to his pillow with a laughing huff, he brought the phone up and squinted at the bright screen.

 

**_TS (3 messages): Have you…_ **

 

Mouth suddenly dry, Peter swiped the screen to unlock, and the phone buzzed again as another message arrived.

 

**_Trying something new?_ **

**_CaCl 2, huh?_ **

**_Have you already given it a test run?_ **

**_Or should I expect reports of explosions?_ **

The words didn’t suddenly change or disappear even after he’d stared at them for a minute and well, wow.

 

_Hi Mr Stark._

_Haven’t tried it yet, talked about it with Ned and Karen_

**_Who the hell are Ned and Karen?_ **

**_*heck_ **

**_Wait, nvm, I know who Karen is_ **

Peter, who was halfway through typing his reply, just ploughed onwards.

 

_Karen is in my suit. Ned’s my best friend._

**_Hmm, and you trust him?_ **

_Yes_

_Well_

_Yes_

_But he found out by accident_

**_Need me to threaten him?_ **

_No! He’s a really good guy. And he’s kept it secret_

**_Tell me this idea then_ **

 

Peter painstakingly typed out his proposed formula, checking it over 3 times for mistakes and then hitting send. The reply came thirty seconds later.

 

**_Huh, worth a look._ **

**_You’ll have stabilization issues_ **

**_But I support trial and error_ **

**_gtg need coffee_ **

_Thanks Mr Stark!_

\--------------------

 

When another small bag appeared on his bed – and seriously, how were they even getting there? Did Tony Stark have a spy network that kept breaking into his house? Was Iron Man flying around Queens? – it contained the promised calcium chloride and a pack of Reese’s.

 

 _Thanks Mr Stark_ , Peter wrote in between scribbling calculus answers.

_though I prefer twix_

An answer popped up half an hour later.

 

**_what, you don’t subscribe to shit chocolate wrapped around peanuty goodness?_ **

**_Wait, you’re not allergic, are you?_ **

_No, peanuts are good_

**_Thank fuck_ **

**_also_ **

**_I’m really bad at not swearing to children_ **

_I’m 15_

_And I think I already know all the bad words_

**_You rebel, you_ **

 

\-------------------------

_Hi Mr Stark_

_Today we learned how to swear in Spanish at school_

_so I don’t think you have to worry any more_

**_what the hell are they teaching kids these days?_ **

\----------------------

_Hi Mr Stark_

_Today I saw someone walking 2 pigs like they were dogs_

_Like, on leads_

_Huge pigs_

_< photo of two waist-high pigs happily being walked along a road>_

_I don’t think it was a crime_

_I didn’t stop them_

_Mostly because I was busy laughing_

**_That’s weird_ **

**_Why have I never tried that?_ **

**_I need some pigs_ **

**_Can I eat them afterwards?_ **

_Awww, Mr Stark, no_

_They looked so cute_

**_They can be cute and tasty_ **

**_You know what they say about letting emotions get in the way of your work_ **

\----------------------                                                             

_Hi Mr Stark_

_Crazy storm tonight_

**_Down in the lab, can’t see it_ **

**_FRIDAY says your vitals went wonky a while ago_ **

**_fine now?_ **

_Yeah I’m fine_

_Might have got a bit singed_

**_Singed? Singed is not fine. Singed by what?_ **

_… lightning?_

**_I swear one day you’ll give me a heart attack_ **

\-------------------

                                               

**_Happy’s sulking because you never message him anymore_ **

**_Don’t tell him I told you so_ **

**_But, you know, send him something about your class_ **

**_Or a squirrel or something_ **

_Happy?_

_But he hated my messages_

**_Pfft, you were making his day_ **

**_I used to get all kinds of comments_ **

**_The kid did this, the kid did that_ **

**_throw him a bone_ **

 

\---------------------

 

_My aunt’s talking about getting a dog_

_I think she thinks it’ll make me stay home more_

**_Ahh, emotional blackmail_ **

_I could take it out with me_

**_spiderpuppy?_ **

**_I’m not making it a suit_ **

_Maybe I could carry it in my backpack_

**_And on the list of worst ideas ever_ **

_I know_

_Just_

_A puppy!_

**_Maybe if you’re really good one day I’ll let you have a goldfish_ **

 

\-----------------------

 

He drew a deep breath before dialing.

 

“Yes?”

 

“Mr Stark?”

 

“Kid?”

 

“Uh, hi Mr Stark. Sorry, I know you’re really busy, but I just thought I should call you to tell you about these dodgy-looking guys I saw tonight.”

 

“Dodgy-looking, hmm? Sounds suitably ominous - I’m all ears. Then I need to hear more about this amazing donut place you say you found.”

 

“Well…”

 

\-----------------------


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone in the room turned as one to see Tony Stark halfway through the door, tapping busily on a tablet. After a long moment of silence, he looked up and seemed incredibly surprised to see them there – comedic double take and all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love field trip fics. They're the whole reason I suddenly decided I needed to write Peter Parker.  
> This is probably not how field trips work. I don't care :)

2\. The obligatory field trip.

 

“Okay, two weeks on Wednesday is field trip day – yes, I know you’d all forgotten and now are unspeakably delighted that you get a day away from school. Everyone needs to take home a form. Everyone needs to fill out the form with their choice of destination. Everyone needs to understand that some of these have limited spaces so you should A) get it back to me as soon as possible and B) write your backup choice. Do you understand me?”

 

There was a chorus of students mumbling yes.

 

“This form needs to be signed by a parent or guardian. If you do not have permission to go, you will stay at school and do a workshop on career choices with our very own Miss Pilchard.”

 

This time, the chorus was of groans. “Miss Pilchard!” muttered Ned with despair.

 

“Maybe I’ll do that,” MJ said, inserting herself into the conversation. “Lots of drawing material.”

 

“Class dismissed.”

 

\------------------------

 

“So, what are you going for?” asked Ned as they pooled in the corridor after class. MJ, still lurking nearby, looked over in casual not-interest.

 

“I haven’t looked yet.” Peter uncrumpled the sheet of paper, and scanned it as they started to head to their next class. “Okay, law firm, media, electronics – that could be interesting, accounting, teaching, research…”

 

“You saw it, right? You saw they have Stark Industries on there!” Ned’s enthusiasm practically radiated from his face.

 

Peter’s finger hovered above that line. Stark Industries, R&D. 10 spaces. “Only ten people from our whole year though,” he said weakly.

 

“And we could be two of them! Imagine it, Peter, it would be so cool. Stark Industries makes the best stuff.”

 

“It’s overrated,” drawled MJ.

 

“No it isn’t,” Peter said quickly. “Mr Stark is one of the best…” he trailed off, wishing he’d been slightly less defensive. “Anyway, we probably won’t get in.”

 

It would be cool, though, to actually get to see some of the work that was done by SI.

 

\----------------------

“Hey May.”

 

“Hey Peter. I’m making my famous macaroni cheese for dinner,” she said cheerfully as he rounded the door to the living room.

 

“Famous?” he asked, teasing. “Why famous? Are you suggesting that it’s so memorably terrible that-”

 

A dishcloth wapped him in the shoulder and he laughed and raised his hands in mock-surrender.

 

“Oh, hey, I’m supposed to get you to sign a form for our career day trip.”

 

“What are your options? Becoming a famous artist? Five-star chef?”

 

“Umm.” He handed over the form and tugged a quick hand through his hair. “Ned really wants to go to SI.”

 

Her gaze sharpened. “Oh, _Ned_ does, does he?” She gave the form a thorough perusal. “What do you actually want to do after school, sweetie?”

 

“Well, you know…” Spiderman. “Science.”

 

She sighed. “It’s not that Stark Industries is a bad choice. I just… you know how I feel about you getting mixed up in all of that.” He nodded agreement. He did know. He might not have told her that he messaged Tony Stark pretty much every day now.

 

“I’m not actually going for a job there, May. It’s just seeing what’s out there.”

 

“Uh huh.”

 

“Look, I’m putting Barstow Electronics as my second choice!”

 

She sighed again. “Of course I’ll sign, mongoose. I just… Nevermind. Hand me a pen, will you?”

 

\-----------------

 

“Got it?” Ned stage-whispered to him as they met the next morning.

 

“Got it.”

 

“Awesome. Mr Morrow may have hinted yesterday that people doing the best in science class will get priority for this, so we’re in with a decent shot.”

 

\-----------------

 

Two weeks later:

 

“I’m disappointed,” Ned said as their bus pulled up. “Are you disappointed?”

 

Peter peered out of the window at the large square building they had parked outside. It was nicely built, to be fair, but it didn’t look that different from your average slightly posh office building. Only the big silver SI on the side distinguished it at all.

 

“What were you expecting,” he asked.

 

Ned shrugged, and shoved his headphones into his backpack. “I don’t know. The Tower was just so… iconic, you know?”

 

“Ah,” Peter said sagely. “The illusion is shattered. Now you realize that people at SI are normal, boring humans who live in the real world.”

 

“Real world.” Ned snorted. “Did you know they have games consoles in their break rooms? And like, specialized hot chocolate machines?”

 

Peter got up. “You’ve been reading too much about this on the internet.”

 

\-----------------------

 

“Hi, my name’s Marie, and I’ll be taking you around the facility today. This is one of four SI buildings in New York, and the only one to focus exclusively on research and development. Other facilities are involved more with the marketing, outreach, legal and production sides. Okay, all visitors need to sign in over here and get a temporary pass. Make sure you stay with the group at all times, guys.”

 

Peter dutifully wrote his name under Ned’s, copying the date and then signing at the end of the line. He was handed a small hard plastic card on a lanyard which he looped around his neck. It said ‘Visitor’s pass’ in bold blue letters.

 

“Alright, we’re going to tour some of the labs and let you talk to some of our R&D guys, then we’ll have lunch and you can ask any questions you might have. Let’s get started.”

 

Marie was smiley and unfailingly cheerful. She kept up a steady stream of information and comments as she led them from floor to floor. First, they went to a lab where new materials were being tested – mainly some kind of high tensile strength fabric which looked really cool. Their group were all given various objects to try and damage it. Peter got a baseball bat. Ned got a spear.

 

“Wicked,” he breathed, and Peter eyed him sidelong.

 

“Everyone be careful,” Mr Morrow said in a slightly harried manner, and then the lab tech gave the signal to attack.

 

One at a time they approached a square of fabric stretched over a metal frame. They bashed, stabbed and tore at it. The shortest boy in their group, whom Peter didn’t know, attacked with such ferocity that Peter was kind of worried about him. The lab tech just laughed and egged them all on.

 

When they were done, she collected everything from them. “We’re still working on it,” she explained. “It gets worn down over time, and it’s hard to find a method to sew or attach pieces together.”

 

“Very cool,” said Peter under his breath, and Ned nodded along.

 

Next was a room where the researchers were trying to develop an AI that could tell jokes.

 

“Why would you need that?” one of the other kids asked.

 

There was a moment where the junior researcher they were talking to stared at them as though thinking ‘ _why do we need a reason?_ ’

 

The head of the lab turned to face them from where she’d been working in the corner. “Good question,” she said with a smile. “Actually, it’s thought to be the most difficult thing to be able to do with an AI. It requires the AI to be able to understand human nature. To have empathy and spontaneity. Who can think of a good joke? Right now?”

 

Their entire group was silent.

 

“Right? It’s really hard. Most humans can’t make jokes on demand. A lot of what we consider good humor is just subtle plays on words and situations as we make conversation. If it’s hard for us, imagine how hard it is to create an AI that can mimic it, let alone learn it.”

 

“So, if you can make one with a sense of humor, it’s a sign that it’s a good AI?” asked someone else.

 

The junior researcher made a so-so motion with her hand. “Not guaranteed. But it certainly indicates sophistication and adaptability, and a high likelihood of being able to work well with human beings. So far, the only person in the world who’s ever done it successfully is Tony Stark, and he isn’t sharing how.” With a sly glance at the lab head, she added, “I think he just enjoys watching us suffer.”

 

\-------------------------

 

The final stop before lunch was a testing facility for robotic protheses.

 

“They’re a new line,” The technician demonstrating them announced proudly. “It’s a recent thing for us, but we’re going to revolutionize the world of medical protheses. We can even get fine motor control in individual fingers, look!”

 

Their group clustered around one of the work benches, staring down at the hand sprouting up from a clamp. It didn’t have any form of skin or covering, so it was just a frame and wiring, but watching it curl and move was one of the most impressive things Peter had ever seen. And he’d seen Iron Man.

 

“Hey, Jeff, how’s the new protocol coming along?”

 

Everyone in the room turned as one to see Tony Stark halfway through the door, tapping busily on a tablet. After a long moment of silence, he looked up and seemed incredibly surprised to see them there – comedic double take and all.

 

“FRIDAY,” he said, “I’m hallucinating. Small people have invaded my building. That, or someone was messing around with a shrink ray.”

 

“I believe they’re usually classed as ‘visitors,’ boss.”

 

Peter stared up at the ceiling, where the voice had come from. The rest of his group was doing the same thing. He’d had no idea FRIDAY was installed here as well.

 

“Not invaders?”

 

“You can’t shoot them, boss.”

 

A couple of boys in their group twitched warily.

 

“Ah well,” Mr Stark said. “I have so few pleasures these days. Anyway, Jeff, I just wanted to-“ Tony’s eyes had skimmed around the room, and as they passed over Peter he blinked twice, subtly thrown, and then carried on. “Uh, yeah, you know what, we can talk about it later. I’m busy.” He paused, rocking his weight backwards as if about to leave, then suddenly moved forward into the room. “So,” he said, “you’re the youth of today? Anyone here for a job interview?”

 

There was a wave of uneasy and awed laughter. Mr Stark focused his gaze right next to Peter, where Ned’s hand had shot up into the air.

 

“Your name?”

 

“Ned.”

 

“Well Ned, we certainly value enthusiasm. What’s the coolest thing you’ve seen today?”

 

“The material I got to hit with a spear,” Ned said happily. “I’m still trying to figure out what you could combine and how you would have to process it to create that effect!”

 

“Company secret, I’m afraid,” said Tony with a smirk. “Don’t try and figure that out, we’ve already done it. Try and come up with something better. If someone comes to us with a great idea that they can prove is theirs, they get hired on the spot. And you should definitely come to us with it instead of those wankers at Hammer Industries or Oscorp-“ Tony froze for a micro-second. “Am I allowed to say wanker?” he stage-whispered, but he was looking at Peter. Peter gave a tiny shrug. “Pepper is always telling me off for this stuff. Right well, whatever, they’re dick-bags, don’t work for them. Anyway, I have to go but, you know, keep doing stuff and stay in school.”

 

He was gone as quickly as he’d arrived, and it felt like the room let out a collective breath.

 

“Tony Stark, ladies and gentlemen,” said the technician wryly. “It’s always slightly like having a hurricane come through the lab.”

 

“He was so dreamy,” whispered one of the girls on the other side of the room.

 

“That was an amazing suit.”

 

“Who cares about that suit – he’s Iron Man. He has a way better suit.”

 

“Hey, dude.” Peter glanced at Ned as he nudged his shoulder. Ned grinned at him. “That was Tony Stark. I just met Tony Stark.” Peter grinned back, but not quite as widely as he should have. Ned quirked an eyebrow. “What’s up?”

 

“I don’t know. It was just weird,” Peter whispered. “I wasn’t expecting to see him here.”

 

“Right?” Ned said happily. “Not in my wildest dreams. Well, okay, absolutely in those – actually even in some of my kind of medium happy ones, because…”

 

Peter’s attention faded as his phone vibrated in his pocket.

 

                                                                                      **_Thanks for the heads up_**

_I didn’t know you’d be here!_

_**It’s my R &D department**_

**_You know, where I R &D_ **

_Don’t you have a lab?_

_at the Avengers facility_

_**sometimes I actually interact with the people that work for me**_

**_crazy, I know_ **

                                                                                     

“Pete, are you even listening to me?”

 

“Sorry,” mumbled Peter, and tucked his phone in his pocket. When Ned shrugged and turned his attention back to the technician, Peter snuck it back out.

_**Why are you here?**_

**_are you stalking me?_ **

**_Or did you just realize that cool stuff other than spiderman exists?_ **

_school career trip_

_**And you decided my company was best**_

**_That is the correct choice_ **

_Maybe I’ll go work for Hammer ind_

_**give me back that suit**_

**_You are unworthy_ **

 

“Alright,” their guide said. “Time for lunch!”

 

\-------------------------

 

They were just heading back through reception on their way back to the bus when Tony Stark appeared at the other end. He walked quickly and confidently past them, then turned as if suddenly remembering something and said, “Enthusiasm boy.”

 

“Ned,” Ned said. Happily. Grin splitting his face.

 

“Yes, Ned, that’s what I said. Come over here.” He waved in the direction of the side of the lobby, where it was less busy with people coming and going. “Bring a friend.”

 

Ned grabbed Peter’s arm and bodily hauled him after Stark. Peter didn’t look behind him, not wanting to see the expressions on anyone else’s faces.

 

“So,” Tony said when the stood off to one side, slipping off the sunglasses he’d acquired since they last saw him. “Enjoy the tour?”

 

“It was amazing,” Ned said fervently. Tony’s eyes slid in Peter’s direction.

 

“I really liked it,” Peter said warmly, and he might have been imagining it but Tony’s shoulders seemed to relax.

 

“Good, good,” he said, and then considered them both. “Seriously though, you both seem very bright. Go to a good college somewhere – MIT for example – and I’d probably hire you.”

 

“What’s so great about MIT?” Peter said, while Ned practically had a happiness meltdown next to him.

 

“What’s so great about – don’t even start with me.” Tony pointed a finger at him. “I can’t even tell if you’re just doing this to wind me up or if you actually are that tragically ignorant. Did Happy tell you to say that? It’s just the kind of thing he would do. _What’s so great about MIT?_ ” He pulled a face. “Anyway, I just wanted to-“ he paused, and seemed uncertain of what he’d been about to say. “Right, well, I’m busy. Skedaddle. Back to school with you.”

 

Ned started walking away slowly, saying “Wow. Wow. Wow. Wow,” as he went.

 

Peter lingered a few seconds behind, enough to catch Tony’s soft, “You okay, kid?” and be able to smile and say, “Yeah, I’m good.”

 

“Wow,” Ned said. “Wow.”

 

\------------------------

 

At school the next day, Flash, irritated beyond measure both that he _hadn’t_ got to go to SI and that Ned and Peter _had_ , turned on them just before class started. “So,” he sneered, “I suppose everyone found out you were lying about the stupid internship. Now everyone knows you’re a fraud.”

 

Peter flexed his fingers around his pencil, and counted to five in his head. “I’m not an intern anymore,” he said. “That ended when Stark Tower was sold, since that’s where I was interning.”                                                                                                       

 

There was a fleeting look of uncertainty. Flash had clearly expected him to defend himself to the end. “You’re just saying that as an excuse for why they didn’t have you on record.”

 

Whatever response he was hoping to provoke, it was completely derailed by Ned’s joyous, “Tony Stark offered us jobs!”

 

Flash turned to looked him in disbelief. “What?”

 

“He offered Peter and I jobs. He said we were really bright, and then he was trying to convince Peter to go to his college, and –“

 

“You’re lying.”

 

Peter stared at him coolly, willing himself not to react. Mr Morrow came in at just that moment, and walked to the front of the class. “Well, those of you who went to Stark Industries yesterday certainly had an amazing trip. It was an honor to meet Mr Stark, and he seemed very impressed with you.”

 

Mr Morrow smiled at Ned and Peter in particular, and the glowing burn of Flash’s silent anger kept Peter warm all the way through class.

 

\--------------------


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It was you I was talking to about Iron Man the other day, right?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for super hand-wavey science.

 3. Fashion advice

 

_have you ever thought about colorblind people?_

**_…_ **

**_No_ **

_There’s this guy in my class that’s colorblind_

**_I did not need this information_ **

_and he thinks you’re called iron man because your suit is the same color as rust_

_youre kindof brown to him_

 

There was no answer for several minutes

 

**_What the actual f***, kid?_ **

_I just thought it was interesting_

_And kind of funny_

**_Funny?_ **

**_Proof that you have no sense of humour_ **

_I mean, you just never know what other people see, right?_

**_red, they should see red_ **

**_red is awesome_ **

****

Peter duly repeated the whole conversation to Ned, who had paused in his sandwich eating to wait for Tony’s response.

 

“Dude,” Ned breathed, when Peter finished. “I can’t believe you said that to Iron Man. I can’t believe you’re texting _Iron Man_.”

 

Peter half-grinned. “It’s true though. James really did say that. He really did think it was brown.”

 

Now Ned snorted incredulously. “Oh please. Iron Man’s armour is iconic – a legend. You can’t find a single article that doesn’t refer to his signature ‘red and gold’ armor.”

 

A shrug. “Maybe he doesn’t read many articles about superheroes.”

 

Ned paused. “I realize that these people exist, Peter,” he said seriously, as though it were a conspiracy theory. “But they must be so rare and difficult to locate that there’s no way we have one at our school.”

 

“Either way, I’m just saying…”

 

“Saying what?” asked MJ, slinging her bag down at the other end of the table from them. She was wearing a t-shirt with a kiwi bird on it. The bird was cut in half, and in the middle it was green with seeds in it like the fruit. That was… kind of disturbing. “Hey, dorkass, stop staring at my chest.”

 

“Uh,” Peter said, going bright red to the very tips of his ears. “I was, there was, it was –“ he flailed a hand towards the picture on her t-shirt.

 

She gave him a mildly unimpressed look and turned away, opening her bag of crisps and playing with her phone. Ned, when Peter turned back to him, was quietly enjoying Peter’s pain.

 

“Thanks,” Peter said dryly.

 

“Oh,” Ned said, practically radiating smugness, “I figured you could handle it. I mean, you are-“ he cut off abruptly in response to Peter’s fiercely downturned eyebrows and pointed glance at MJ, “-are… a totally smooth operator!”

 

Peter groaned and dropped his face into his hand.

 

\---------------------

 

“Hey Peter,” said James as Peter dropped his backpack next to their workbench a couple of weeks later. On top of the bench were various pieces of acrylic, wood, electronics components and a partially constructed circuit board. Looked like today would be interesting then.

 

“Hey. Any idea what we’re doing?”

 

“No clue.”

 

Class started and they got on with their assignment. Peter only burnt himself once on the soldering iron, which was a massive improvement on the last time around.

 

“It was you I was talking to about Iron Man the other day, right?” James said in a conversational tone about halfway through.

 

“Huh? Oh, yeah, sure.”

 

“And you said his armor wasn’t brown?”

 

“Yup.”

 

James carefully applied a line of glue to the wood he was working on. “I mean, it’s not like I figured you were lying – there’s loads of things I don’t realize are… you know, whatever color.”

 

Peter nodded.

 

“But then a couple of days ago...” James paused, and Peter glanced up in interest. “He was on TV. There was that building that burnt down?” Peter nodded. “And the news was showing him and dude, he’s done something to it.” James’ voice was almost hushed now. “The armor. It has, like, this _sheen_ to it, and it’s a color I’ve never seen before.”

 

“What?”

 

“I know. It’s like-“ James gave a weird little laugh. “It’s almost like it was put there just for me. Crazy, I know.”

 

“Crazy,” Peter repeated numbly. Then, jerking himself back into the moment, “What color is it? What does it look like?” He hadn’t noticed anything different about the armor, and he’d watched footage of the same incident online.

 

“I don’t know what color it is, dumbass,” said James without rancor. “It’s just… different. Intense. I guess I’m going to call it-“ he laughed “- _red_.”

 

\---------------------------

 

_Mr Stark what did you do to your suit?_

_My friend says he can see a totally different color_

**_oh really_ **

_yeah, you totally blew his mind_

_he’s calling it red_

_but it isn’t, right? that’s impossible?_

**_It’s almost impossible to know what anyone thinks is red_ **

**_but no, you’re right_ **

_Then what is it? I couldn’t see a difference?_

**_Figured out where the exact thresholds are for colorblindness_ **

**_And what you need to add to change the wavelength just enough_ **

**_Your friend is probably seeing a color no one else can_ **

_you don’t know what it looks like?_

**_I can see it through Friday’s filters_ **

_cooool_

_holy crap, you invented a new color, Mr Stark_

**_I’ll add it to my list of awesome_ **

 

Peter grinned, debating if he should ask to see the list. He was pretty sure that Tony was kidding, but who knew?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Suuuuper hand-wavey science, but hey, that's perfectly consistent with the movies ;)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He wasn’t being nosy. He just… hadn’t got to see a lot of the Avenger’s Compound the one time he’d visited.

4: Visiting 

 

He wasn’t being nosy. He just… hadn’t got to see a lot of the Avenger’s Compound the one time he’d visited. And, you know, who wouldn’t want to see more of the place where’s the world’s coolest superheroes (okay, mostly exiled, but still!) trained and did superhero stuff? 

 

Also, Ned might have dared him. 

 

Peter’s original plan for after school on Friday had been a ‘what’s the highest velocity I can build up by continuously swinging off buildings without stopping’ kind of evening, but Ned’s words triggered a desire that had been lying latent for quite a while, and so he ended up taking the bus upstate. He clutched his backpack tight to his chest as he sat watching the road go by, feeling as though the Spiderman suit inside must somehow be visible to everyone on the bus. “Be cool,” he muttered to himself, then blushed as his neighbor, a twelve-year-old girl, gave him a disdainful look.  Right, telling yourself to be cool was, uh, not very cool.

 

Once he was in the right area, it was still a pretty long hike from the nearest town. He got out into the woods and changed into his costume behind a tree, then started a laid-back swing from branch to branch, sprinting the short sections where the trees were too far apart. Karen kept him going in the right direction, but soon he could almost feel the pull of it, like the place was registering to his spidey-senses.  

 

As he got nearer, certain logistical considerations occurred to him. He started thinking about the large clear spaces of nothing but grass he remembered being around the compound; there were probably lots of cameras set up, and they would undoubtedly spot his red and blue ass super easily.  

 

“Karen?” he said quietly. 

 

“Yes, Peter?” 

 

“I want to look at the Avenger’s compound. But… I don’t want to bother anyone. Could you ask FRIDAY if it would be alright, and if she would mind not setting off any alarms?” 

 

There were a few seconds of silence. 

 

“FRIDAY is asking why you wish to visit, Peter? She says that Tony Stark is not present.” 

 

“Oh, no, no,” he said hurriedly. “I don’t want to go inside or anything. I just-“ 

 

“You wish to ‘sight-see?’” she supplied when he hesitated, and yeah, it sounded kind of lame when she said it out loud. 

 

“Uh-“ 

 

“FRIDAY says that will be fine,” she added, and Peter breathed out a noiseless sigh of relief. He’d been kind of doubting the whole plan for a moment there and he’d already travelled a long way. 

 

Even with permission from FRIDAY, he waited around for another hour until it started to get darker. He didn’t know who else was staying at the compound, and he wasn’t sure what he’d say if anyone confronted him. He gave his aunt a quick call, and uncomfortably lied that he’d be out late ‘creepily vampiring around the city.’ She didn’t need to know where he was. She  _definitely_  wouldn’t understand. ”I’ll give you another call at eleven to check in,” he finished. “Bye!” Then he emerged from the tree line and, staying low, stealthily crept across to the compound. 

 

The whole building was sleekly rounded and pleasing to the eye. Probably a little impractical in terms of shape, but Peter kind of thought that was trumped by how cool it looked. Maybe Tony thought so too. Maybe Peter and Tony secretly had that in common.  

 

He slung a web up to the ridge of the arced roof, and swiftly pulled himself up, afraid to be seen through the windows. A needless fear, as he discovered in the next half an hour while he spidied all over the building, because there didn’t appear to be anyone home – no lights, no movement. Clearly it wasn’t just Tony that was away at the moment. 

 

Still cool though. 

 

\------------------------ 

 

He went again the next Saturday. This time, he didn’t have Karen notify FRIDAY, and sat happily in a tall tree staring at the compound’s windows gleaming in the sunlight.  

 

“Why are we here, Peter Parker?” asked Karen after an hour or so. It was the third time she’d asked. He didn’t know, not really. But… 

 

“I guess I just like to think about it,” he said. “What it could have been like. What it _could_ be like. I mean, I know Mr Stark doesn’t think I’m good enough yet, and I’m happy doing what I’m doing, I  _am_ , but I just… What if I could be, you know? I mean, wow.” 

 

“I require clarification,” she said after a moment, and he laughed and got up to leave. 

 

“It’s just a nice dream, is all, Karen.” 

 

\----------------------- 

 

The third time, he didn’t announce himself either, but he also didn’t leave as quickly because after a couple of hours a sports car pulled up with a  _vrooooom_  while he was sitting there. The car was cherry red, the top was down, and that was Tony Stark’s messy hair blowing in every direction in the wind.  

 

Tony was met by someone coming out of the compound. Peter stared at the reddish skin of the man in fascination; he’d only met Vision very briefly, and they hadn’t really spoken. There was a bit on the internet about him – it was possible that Peter and Ned had followed (and maybe still did) everything Avengers related with great fervor - but blurry photos were totally different from the real thing.  

 

After the two Avengers went inside, however, things were quiet again. The lights came on, but Peter didn’t see either of them moving through the outer halls. He’d just moved to a different tree to try and get a better angle when his phone vibrated in the small pocket for it at his waist. He pulled it out, expecting a message from Ned or May, but no.

 

TS.

 

**_How’s Queens_**  

**_?_**  

 

 

 

For all that he was probably imagining things, the message felt accusing.

 

Surely Tony didn’t know he was there? He hadn’t approached close to the compound – one bonus of his excellent vision. Tony must just be asking because he wanted to know how Peter was doing. Maybe. Still, Peter felt really uncomfortable. This was stupid. Why  _was_  he even here? He considered and rejected half a dozen answers for Mr Stark, ranging from ‘still there’ to ‘same old’ to ‘I don’t know, how’s the compound?’ He didn’t write any of them. 

 

He webbed his way home, suddenly conscious that he’d wasted another day that he could have been helping people or been spending time with Ned. Desperately hoping Tony hadn’t known he was there.

 

\-------------------------- 

**_got a quick upgrade for the suit_**  

**_needs some hands on rewiring_**  

_Hey Mr Stark_  

_that’s cool_  

 

Peter paused, trying to figure out how to ask how he was supposed to get the suit to Tony. There was no way he could suggest something as inane as posting it. 

 

_Should I drop it off somewhere?_  

**_No_**  

**_That’s a multimillion dollar piece of MY tech_**  

**_You will not ‘drop it off’ anywhere_**  

 

Right, shit, stupid suggestion. Peter chewed his lip.  

 

“Fatty acids…” droned Miss Richards at the front of the class, and Peter tuned her out again.  

 

**_Meet me at my lab_**  

 

And wow, Peter’s heart soared. He was pretty sure Ned would explode just thinking about it. Tony Stark’s _lab_.  

 

_Wow, okay, sure Mr Stark. Tnoight?_  

_I can come by after school_  

_*tonight_  

**_sure. come to SI again_**  

 

Peter vacillated for a moment, then quickly wrote: 

 

_I could come to the compound if it’s easier_  

**_Bit far_**  

_no it’s fine_  

_I don’t mind_

**_Nah, SI in town is fine_**  

**_I’ll leave a window open for you_**  

 

\------------------- 

 

Peter poked his head through the promised open window on the tenth floor – round the back of the building where he wouldn’t be so visible from the street.  His eyes quickly registered chaotic workspaces, discarded fast food wrappers, and Tony Stark, standing off to one side and waving his hands while talking to thin air.  

 

Definitely the right place, then.   

 

He crawled inside, sinking noiselessly to the floor. He wasn’t even halfway upright when Stark said, “FRIDAY, close the window,” and the glass panel behind him slid seamlessly into place.  

 

“Huh, cool,” Peter said, tugging his mask off over his head and smiling shyly. Tony Stark in person was still a novel, wonderful thing. 

 

“Hey spiderboy,” Tony said, without looking his way.

 

“Hi Mr Stark.” 

 

“Catch.”   

 

To Peter’s enhanced senses, the white ball coming towards him moved laughably slowly. Still, he wasn’t expecting it, so he just clutched the fabric in his hands after he caught it, bewildered. 

 

“Well?” Tony said, glancing his way and waving a hand. 

 

“Um.” Peter slowly unraveled the ball, which was a scrunched-up t shirt. On it, there was a cartoon face peering through a window, and the words ‘I know where you live,’ in slanted letters underneath. “Uh, Mr Stark…” 

 

“Bit too home truth for you?” The words took a moment to register, then Peter’s stomach sunk and his mouth felt like it was filled with cotton. Tony’s face was pretty unreadable, but Peter imagined he could see suspicion there, and maybe annoyance. “Didn’t they teach you about personal space and stalking in school?” 

 

“I haven’t been in your personal space,” Peter mumbled. His face had gone scorching red. 

 

“My personal space is like a mile wide, kid, and I definitely feel like you’ve been impinging on that of late. Spying is such an ugly word, Peter.” 

 

“I wasn’t spying,” Peter protested desperately, except his breath hitched in the middle. 

 

“Oh god,” Tony said, pinching the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger, “don’t cry, Pepper will kill me if I made you cry. Of course you weren’t spying, you’d be the least inconspicuous spy ever – FRIDAY caught so much footage of you that we could make a movie. ‘Spiderman, back to nature.’ Huh, actually that’s kind of catchy. Anyway,” Tony visibly hauled himself back to the subject at hand, “What’s up kid, why have you been creeping around the Avenger’s facility?” 

 

“I just, uh…” 

 

Tony crossed his arms, turning fully towards him. Peter felt like he was shriveling in on himself.

 

“I just thought it was cool,” he said in a very small voice. 

 

Tony stared at him for several seconds.  

 

“You thought it was – how old even are you? Nevermind, don’t answer that, thinking about it ages me. Kid, do you know how often the compound is staked out by the media? Yeah, we try and keep them off the grounds as much as possible, but that doesn’t stop them from trying, and there are these incredible inventions like drones and telescopic lenses now. Actually, forget I said that thing about the drones, we’re cooler than that, we have counter defenses. I think. FRIDAY, did we-?” 

 

“Yes, boss,” she replied smoothly.  

 

“Good, good, that’s good,” Tony muttered to himself. “Anyway, not the point, Underoos! If you want to remain a friendly neighborhood Spiderman that isn’t stalked and hounded by the media, you need to steer clear of the Avengers. Especially while we get this shi- uh, stuff with the Accords finished off.” 

 

Peter’s stomach churned. He hadn’t detected any other presences on his trips, but he hadn’t exactly been looking that hard for anyone  _outside_  the compound. “Right,” he said quietly. 

 

“Stop looking like I kicked your imaginary puppy. God, and the eyes. Stop the eyes.” 

 

Peter blinked the slightest amount of moisture away and looked fixedly at the wall behind Tony. Tony sighed. 

 

“Look, kid, if you want to come look around sometime we’ll smuggle you in. I just know you wanted to keep things local, so more attention isn’t necessarily a good thing.” 

 

“No, it makes sense. I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry, Mr Stark.” 

 

Tony nodded, and there was an awkward silence for a moment.  

 

“So… the suit, gimme the suit.” 

 

“Oh!” Peter’s hand came up automatically to tap on the chest piece, but he hesitated before pulling it off. “I thought maybe that was just an excuse to get me to come.” 

 

“Pffft,” Tony said. “I don’t need excuses, I… yeah, okay, it was totally an excuse.  But a true one. I mean, why let a perfectly good opportunity to tweak tech go to waste? That’s my new motto. If it ain’t broke don’t fix it is like the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard - how did the human race ever progress this far, I ask you?” 

 

Tony reached for the suit as Peter handed it over, connecting a cable to a small port on one of the inner seams. His fingers then poked and prodded over the fabric. “How’s it working for you, anyway? Any problems?” 

 

This was a familiar query, one that Tony had asked in his messages before. “Everything’s fine, Mr Stark,” Peter reported happily. “Apart from the instant kill mode thing, that’s still happening. I, uh, really would like to deactivate that somehow.” 

 

“Mmm,” said Stark, a thin, pointy tool now held between his lips as he fiddled with interior wiring. After a moment, he retrieved it and waved it in Peter’s direction. “This is what happens when you meddle with software you don’t understand. The problem is that you’ve given Karen access to it and she, well, seems to have a bloodthirsty streak. Have you tried explaining to her why you don’t want it activated?” 

 

“Umm, sure?” Peter said uncertainly. 

 

“I mean in detail, kid. Sit down and have a chat with her about consequences and morals and set her some limits on when she’s allowed to activate it.” 

 

“Okay. That’s… can’t you just switch it off? Or take it out?” 

 

Tony didn’t reply for a minute, fingers carefully adjusting something. “I don’t want to remove something you might need one day,” he said eventually.  

 

“I’m never going to need that, Mr Stark,” Peter said with certainty. Tony glanced up at him, measuring his words.  _It’s not like I couldn’t kill people in a hundred other ways_ , Peter didn’t say.   

 

“What if it’s aliens, or killer robots, and being able to take them out instantly meant the difference between people living or dying?” Tony said. 

 

“I-“ Peter groped for words. “I don’t think activating it would be my first thought anyway. I’d do something else, find another way. And… it isn’t worth it. The chance of hitting someone by accident.” 

 

Tony hummed acknowledgement, then a moment later looked up again. “Done,” he said. “Good reasoning.” 

 

“You… didn’t actually just do anything,” Peter said with mild suspicion, then his eyes went wide. “Wait, was this another test? Was there actually no kill mode to start with?”   

 

Tony eyed him, then he went back to prodding at the suit without replying. 

 

“It totally was,” Peter whispered to himself. Internally, he felt a wave of relief at the fact that he could never have accidentally used that mode, that it had all been a warped punishment for accessing the software and maybe a lesson to teach him… 

 

“You need to stop doing that,” Tony said abruptly. 

 

Peter blinked.  

 

“Assuming that things which seem extreme to you are just a test.” 

 

“It… wasn’t a test?” 

 

Tony sighed, and put down the suit, turning to face him. “No, it wasn’t a test. I’d love to let you think it was, but then the next time you find some deadly feature you’ll be all like, oh, it’s not real, and kill someone with it by accident, and that’s a stupid way to think. I do not actually sit around with steepled fingers coming up with ways to mess with your head.” 

 

Peter processed this for a long moment. A strange, tight feeling wove its way around his chest. “So,” he said slowly, “when you invited me to join the Avengers…” 

 

“It was for real,” Tony said, holding his gaze. “But your answer was a good answer. You keep surprising me with your maturity, kid. Which is a really good thing for someone with superpowers, let me tell you.” 

 

“It was for real,” Peter half-mumbled to himself.

 

See, the thing is that he’d thought it was real, when Tony had first made the offer. For a whole ten or twenty seconds, his thoughts had run ‘Holy Crap I could be an Avenger.” But then he’d thought about May, and the gut-wrenching terror he’d been through in the last couple of weeks, and, well, he hadn’t been sure quite what he’d been going to say until he said it. And then it was so easy to assume it had just been a test, another way for Tony to check if he was up to the responsibility of using the suit. It would have made more sense. 

 

“Yeah, Underoos, it was. You’ve got what it takes, never doubt it.” Peter felt his cheeks flush hot again. “But I like your decision better, not least because I worry about you less.” 

 

“But…” Peter hesitated. “Do you need me? I know you’re a lot of Avengers down at the moment.” 

 

“Not your responsibility,” Tony said firmly. “We’re doing okay. I promise if it’s the end of the world I’ll call you, but everything else, we’ve got it. You just keep doing your thing.” 

 

His  _thing_  suddenly felt very tiny and insignificant again.    

 

“Think of it like this,” Tony said, on seeing his face. “Those video games you play with Ned?” 

 

“Yeah?” Peter said quietly. 

 

“At the beginning of all of them, the character doesn’t go and fight the final boss, right?” 

 

Lips twitching in a reluctant smile, Peter said, “Are you saying I need to level up, Mr Stark?” 

 

Tony pointed the tool at him. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. You’ve cheated, so you’ve already got superstar equipment, but you definitely need to go fight some rats before you take on the armies of Mordor.” 

 

“I-“ A burst of honesty ran through him. “I was going up to the compound because I like to daydream. About, you know, what it would be like.” Tony watched him, not saying anything. “I don’t regret my decision, but I just, I mean, you know, wow.” 

 

“Very coherent,” Tony said dryly, then waved a quick hand as if in apology. “Don’t worry about it, kid, I get you. We can always change things in the future, once you’ve eaten your greens and grown up big and tall.” 

 

About to indignantly protest that he was already taller than Mr Stark, Peter swallowed the words and just nodded instead.  

 

The suit was thrown in his direction almost before Peter realized Tony had disconnected it. He clutched it awkwardly to his chest for a few seconds with the t-shirt still crumpled  in his other hand, then started trying to drag it on one handed.  

 

“Right,” said Tony. “Past your bedtime. Friday, window.” The window slid back open behind Peter, with a sudden gust of air chilling the back of his neck.  

 

“Good night, Mr Stark,” he said, voice muffling as he switched to pulling on the mask, suit still only halfway on. A moment later, his elbow got caught as he tried to shrug his arm in, and his cheeks went bright red under the mask. His most graceful suiting up, it was not. Tony was watching with baffled amusement.

 

“I have to go now,” Peter added quickly, and lunged for the window as he hit his chest piece, waiting for a comment on his lack of coordination that he was incredibly grateful didn’t come. “Bye!” he yelled, and threw himself out.  

 

An  _Avenger_. Huh.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘Iron Man blasted in battle.‘

  1. Injury 



 

‘Iron Man blasted in battle.‘ 

 

The news popped up on Peter’s feed during last period, but he did no more than glance at it because Ms Kawalski was  _fierce_  if people got distracted.

 

He wasn’t too worried at that point; it was surely just a standard thing. Iron Man took hits in battles all the time.

 

As soon as class was out, he slipped his phone out of his pocket and clicked on the link, eager to see Mr Stark in action as always. Then another link, scrolling through articles on his phone on his way home, barely acknowledging Ned’s goodbye or MJ’s ‘see you, stupid’ as he headed out from school because  _shit_ , this looked way worse than he’d thought. His stomach started tying itself in tight little knots at the sight of the footage captured at the scene. It looked… really bad. 

 

_hey_  

 

he typed in their message chat, then couldn’t decide what to say. Are you okay? Are you hurt? Are you- 

 

Peter’s stop on the bus caught him unawares, pulling him out of his focused zoom and leaving him scrambling to get out before the doors shut. “Sorry, sorry!” he yelped as he wedged himself in the closing doors and then dropped his backpack as he half tumbled to the pavement. 

 

“Shit,” he muttered, and dusted himself off, forcing himself to put his phone away for the rest of the walk back home. His fingers twitched and tapped against his legs, his gaze sticking to random people and things as he zoned out and imagined a hundred different scenarios. What if Tony was dead? Paralyzed? What if this had happened because he didn’t have enough backup – what if Spiderman being there would have made a difference? Even if he wasn’t an Avenger, if Peter had known about it he could have got there and helped out. He should have asked to be notified if there were any big fights. He should have put his own selfish little world aside and said he was ready to be an Avenger.

 

His feet automatically led him home.

 

The lights were shining through the windows, warm against the darkening sky, but they didn’t feel welcoming somehow. He didn’t want to go in. He wanted to stay out on the street for a minute, where everything felt distant and unknown. Only the thought that their neighbor would probably come out and yell at him for loitering again got him moving.

 

“Hey,” he called to his aunt as he finished turning the key in their door and pushed it open. 

 

“Hey Peter,” came the reply from the living room. He hesitated, about to head up to his room, then diverted to see her. 

 

The tv was on, muted. There was a scrolling commentary at the bottom of the screen, but somehow the only words Peter could pick out of the blur were ‘Iron Man’ ‘unknown’ and ‘status.’ Above, an image of Iron Man’s suit falling out of the sky after taking a massive hit of blue energy. 

 

Aunt May turned where she sat on the couch, book lax in one hand. “Hi Sweetie.” 

 

“I-“ Peter couldn’t take his eyes off the screen. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t seen Iron Man in battle before. He and Ned had religiously watched every scrap of footage available, and then, after actually  _meeting_  Tony Stark, re-watched it all with even more admiration. “It’s just, normally you see him get back up,” he said quietly after a moment. 

 

“Oh, honey.” She reached over the back of the sofa to squeeze his arm.

 

She didn’t say, ‘I’m sure he’ll be fine.’ Peter wasn’t sure if he appreciated that or resented it. 

 

“What if he’s…“ 

 

Her eyes were sad. “Don’t jump to conclusions yet. That armor looks like it’s pretty well designed.” 

 

“Yeah,” Peter said numbly. It was. The armor was really impressive. But that much weight just falling like that… 

 

His aunt got up and rounded the couch, putting her hands on his shoulders and turning him so that he faced her and not the tv. “I’m so sorry, Peter. This is just-“ she sighed “-just how it feels when someone you care about is hurt or in danger.” 

 

There was a slight sting to the words, because the parallel was obvious, but also- 

 

“I _do_ care about him,” Peter choked out. 

 

“I know.” She put a hand on the top of his head and drew him to her shoulder; his breathing hitched and he blinked rapidly against the scratchy fabric but didn’t cry. “I know you do, sweetheart.” 

 

“I know you don’t like him but he’s so nice to me. He messages me about random shit and sometimes I ask him stupid questions and he doesn’t mind and he said I could go work for him if I want to and he just  _gets_  me,” he mumbled miserably. 

 

“Shh.” 

 

“And I know you don’t like me being Spiderman. I know.” His breath hitched again. “Sometimes I call him if I’m feeling – if it gets a bit much or I’m - or I freaked out about something. Because he knows that doesn’t mean I want to stop, it just means shit happens and it’s good to talk about it.” 

 

May squeezed him tight and kissed the top of his head. He stayed still for a long moment, suddenly drained, before pulling back. He kept his gaze fixed on the floor. 

 

“I’m glad you feel you can talk to him,” she said after a moment, and maybe the words were a little tightly controlled but the feeling behind them was genuine. “I get that superheroes need superhero buddies.” 

 

He dared to meet her eyes for a second and found them kind. 

 

“I just, I get that this is something only he can do,” he whispered. “And otherwise lots of people would die. It’s just… scary to think…” 

 

“I know,” and this time her smile was commiserating, and how weird was it that the person she was worried about in exactly the same way was  _him_. 

 

“I’m sorry I scare you, Aunt May,” he got out in a rush, and she tugged him in for another quick hug. 

 

“You just keep it small scale like we talked about,” she said. “None of this battling giant…whatevers.” 

 

Peter glanced quickly off towards the light of the screen where the giant  _whatever_ was shown getting thoroughly pulverized by Vision in the wake of Tony’s fall. 

 

“I’ll try,” he said. 

 

\------------------------- 

 

In his bedroom, he flopped onto his bed and pulled out his phone. There were messages from Ned. 

 

**_did you see?_**  

**_That looks like a crazy bad hit_**  

**_Is he okay?_**  

_Don’t know_  

 

He kept the chat window open for a minute, but there was no response from Ned and Peter didn’t know what else he wanted to say. He flicked into his chat with TS. The last message he’d sent before the  _hey_   still sat there, a stupid comment on the nutritional value of unicorn frootloops. 

 

There was no point in calling. Tony was probably in hospital. Maybe he couldn’t hold a phone. Maybe he had broken bones. Maybe- 

 

Don’t jump to conclusions, he told himself. The fact that War Machine had picked up the Iron Man armor and flown off with it could be a good thing. Maybe it meant Tony was okay enough to be moved. 

 

He tapped his phone again, flicking to a different chat window.

 

_hi happy_

_srry to bother you_

_is mr stark okay?_

 

There was no reply. Happy was probably very busy too.

 

Eventually, not really thinking about what he was doing, Peter took his Spiderman suit out of his backpack and slipped it on. He locked his bedroom door, still clutching the suit mask in his hand, then crawled back into bed under his quilt, dragging it up over his head.

 

He checked his phone again. Still no messages from TS. 

 

He slipped on the mask. 

 

The familiar overlay booting up somehow made it a little easier to breathe. He stared at the projection of the room for a few seconds, then licked his lips. “Karen?” 

 

“Hi Peter Parker. How are you today?” 

 

“Yeah, I’m… Karen, can you talk to Friday?” 

 

“I am able to contact Friday at all times if necessary.” 

 

“Sorry, rhetorical question. I mean, will you? Could you find out how Mr Stark is?” 

 

A second’s silence. 

 

“Access to biological data is restricted.” 

 

“Oh.” 

 

Peter refreshed the news website again, but there was nothing new. 

 

“Karen, could you tell Friday I just want to know if he’s… I mean, the footage looked pretty bad, and I just...” He trailed off and rolled miserably onto his side. “Nevermind.” 

 

“Relaying message.”

 

“Thanks,” he said quietly, then lay in silence listening to the sound of his heartbeat. One thump, two thumps, three, four, five…. twenty two-

 

“Kid?” came a hoarse voice in his earpiece. 

 

Peter’s eyes went wide, and he bolted upright, quilt tangling around him. “Mr Stark!” 

 

There was a somewhat rough sounding cough, then a grumbled, “Leave off, Rhodey.” Peter waited with his heart in his mouth. “I’m fine Peter. Yeah, yeah, don’t give me that look honeybear, I  _am_  fine.” 

 

“I saw you on the news,” Peter commented, when Tony said nothing further. 

 

There was a snort. “Don’t tell me, they caught me at an unflattering angle.” 

 

“Are you-“ 

 

“-slightly cracked and concussed but still okay?” Tony filled in. “Yes, yes, that’s exactly what I am. And contrary to what  _some_ people would have you believe-“ there was muttering in the background “-I am still fully functional. Mostly. Bored, though. Very bored. Dangerously bored.” 

 

Peter hesitated, not sure how much of this was directed at the people apparently in the room with Tony. “I was, uh, worried,” he said awkwardly. 

 

A sigh. “I know, kid, I’m sorry. You should compare notes with Pepper – she’s got it down to a science.” 

 

Peter plucked at the covers, feeling awkward. “Well, I, uh, thanks for talking to me, Mr Stark. I, uh, I didn’t mean to-“ 

 

“I wasn’t kidding about the boredom. Come over and entertain me.” Peter blinked, and there was the sound of background muttering in Tony’s room. “If you aren’t busy. Pepper wants me to say that homework is important. But yeah, screw that, get over here. We can invent something or, actually, you know, I meant we can mock movies or something else that resembles work in no possible way.” 

 

“That’s right, Tony,” what must be Pepper Pott’s voice came in the background. 

 

“Umm, wouldn’t I just be in the way?” Peter asked, heart in his mouth. 

 

“Pfft, no. Everyone here is boring – you hear that, Rhodey,  _boring_! Rescue me, I demand it.” 

 

“Sure, Mr Stark! I’ll be there soon!” Peter cast the covers off his legs and scrambled out of bed, the paused. “Where exactly is it I’m going?” 

 

Tony snorted. “Come to the compound. I’ll send a car for you – it’ll be out front in ten. Wear a hoody or something stealthy – there are reporters all over the perimeter. The driver can bring you in through the underground parking once you’re here.” 

 

“Okay.” Peter started searching through his stuff for his sunglasses and anything baggy. He started kicking off the suit, leaving the mask on so he could finish the call. “Bye, Mr Stark, sir. I’m really glad you’re okay.” 

 

“Me too, kid.” 

 

Grabbing his backpack, Peter chucked in a change of clothes, his old remote-controlled car, his Spiderman suit, a tie fighter lego set he hadn’t got around to building with Ned yet, and, shit,  _Ned._  There were a bunch of missed messages from him, but Peter ignored them to hurriedly type: 

 

_mr Stark’s okay_  

_i’m going to visit him_  

_will probably miss tomorrow_  

 

Which thank god was a Saturday, but they’d had plans to hang out, and  _shit_ , Aunt May. 

 

“May,” he yelled as he swung down the stairs, backpack in tow. 

 

Her head poked around the doorway. “Peter?” 

 

“Hey, I need a favor and please don’t be mad because this is really important to me and aww, penguin slippers!” 

 

She looked down and gave an involuntary smile at the sight of them on her feet. 

 

His eyes widened, and before she could say anything he blurted, “Maybe I need slippers? Do I need slippers? What if I’m the only person there without slippers?” 

 

“What’s going on, Peter?” she asked. 

 

“Mr Stark’s invited me to go the compound! He’s okay, but he’s hurt, I think he didn’t want to admit to how badly and he said I could go up there to see him so we could watch a movie together but I mean by the time I get there it will be pretty late so it would make sense to stay over is that okay I really want to go please!” 

 

She paused for a moment to parse this. “Tony Stark invited you to the Avenger’s Compound to go and watch a movie with him?” 

 

Peter nodded, his hair falling into his eyes with the motion. He nodded again, because when she put it like that it sounded a little unreal. 

 

“ _Please_?” he asked. 

 

Her expression softened. “Okay, Sweetie, you can go. Maybe it will be nice for him to have you there to keep him company. How are you getting there?” 

 

He glanced towards the door. “Someone’s coming to pick me up.” 

 

“And you’ll call me when you get there?” 

 

“Yes. Thank you thank you thank you!” He lunged forward and grabbed her in a hug. She squeezed back. As he pulled away, he mumbled, “It’s going to be okay, Tony’s going to be okay, and he wants me there – he wants  _me_ there!” 

 

Smiling a little sadly, Aunt May reached out and squeezed his arm. “Of course he does, silly. That’s because you’re the best.” 

 

“Yeah,” he breathed, not really listening. Then, “I have to go. Oh, wait, no, I need my toothbrush. Oh, crap I’m going to be late!” and left her laughing behind him as he scrambled up the stairs again. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He wasn’t even sure if he wanted Tony to answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some angst in this chapter, but just normal Spiderman levels.

+1: Nothing's wrong

 

 _Mr Stark?_  

 

he wrote, without much expectation of an answer. It was a Tuesday, and he knew Tuesdays were meeting days. He wasn’t even sure if he  _wanted_ Tony to answer. 

 

 ** _Kid?_**  

 ** _You okay?_**  

 

Peter held the phone loosely in his hand for a moment, then sighed and put it down on the floor next to him. He was slumped against the wall in the corner of an empty classroom, hidden behind the desks. Everyone was at lunch. Ned and MJ were probably wondering where he was. 

 

His phone buzzed against the slightly sticky wooden floor. 

 

 ** _kid?_**  

 

It was stupid. 

 

 _hey_  

 

He managed to type, then stopped as tears unexpectedly welled in his eyes. 

 

 _I’m having a shitty day_  

 ** _That sucks_**  

 ** _shitty days are the worst_**  

 

Peter huffed a slight laugh and wiped across his eyes with the back of his free hand. 

 

 _nothings wrong_  

 _but everything feels bad_  

 _it’s so stupid_  

 ** _Where are you?_**  

 _school_  

 ** _hiding?_**  

 _yeah_  

 ** _I used to hide in the basement_**  

 

Peter held his breath for a second, then scrubbed his eyes again. He angled his phone in front of him and snapped a picture.

 

 _< photo of empty classroom taken from low down; lots of chair legs>_ 

 ** _basement was a way better hiding place_**  

 ** _Need to up your game, kid_**  

 _I don’t know if we have a basement_  

 ** _You never went exploring?_**  

 ** _Locked doors are there to be broken into_**  

 _you never got in trouble?_  

 ** _Sure, trouble was my middle name._**  

 _I don’t like being in trouble_  

 ** _no one does_**  

 ** _horrible feeling in your stomach_**  

 ** _Pepper makes me feel like that all the time_**  

 ** _you in trouble?_**  

 _maybe_  

 _I don’t know_  

 _I do have that feeling in my stomach_  

 ** _Maybe your stomach is just confused_**  

 ** _Thinks it’s in trouble even though it isn’t_**  

 ** _stomachs are tricksy things_**  

 

Peter uncurled a bit, settling himself more comfortably against the wall. 

 

 _mine puts up with me being spiderman_  

 _When I was a kid roallercosters would make me puke_  

 ** _Benefits of a super spider physiology_**  

 _Things they don’t mention in the ads_  

 ** _How was your patrol last night?_**  

 

Peter bit his lip and put the phone down again. He’d told Tony stuff before. He’d told him about how he was scared of some stuff after the vulture, and that he got nightmares sometimes, and Tony had always been cool. 

 

But.

 

_Fine_

_Kinda boring_

**_Ah, ennui_ **

**_Where are the roving pigs when you need them?_ **

 

Peter couldn’t quite smile, but he appreciated the effort.

 

**_How’s school?_ **

_Everythings fine, mr stark, really_

_don’t know why I’m being stupid_

_sorry_

**_engineers curse_ **

**_want to fix things_ **

**_you sure I cant beat someone up for you?_ **

_I thought violence was never the answer_

**_Violence is frequently the answer_ **

**_just not, you know_ **

**_a good one_ **

_thxs for the wisdom_

**_I am sage and mighty_ **

 

 _I can’t s -_  he hit send by mistake, and the half-finished sentence went out. Biting his lip, he wrote it again.

 

_I can’t stp thinking about last week_

**_Last week?_ **

 

He knew Tony knew, because Karen sent a short report of the evening through the way she did every night now. Normally Peter recorded it, trying to put in things that would make Tony laugh. This time he hadn’t been able to, and Karen had sent… whatever she’d come up with herself.

 

 _I got someone hurt_  

 

He typed slowly, and his finger hovered over the send button for a long time before he pressed it. 

 

 ** _Want to talk about it?_**  

 

The thing was, Peter didn’t know if he wanted to. He didn’t know how to speak about it. 

 

 _You in a meeting?_  

 ** _I can get out of it_**  

 ** _Please, give me a reason_**  

 _Can we just-_  he deleted before sending. 

 

 _aren’t they annoyed youre playing on your phone?_  

 ** _gave them a stern talking to about multitasking_**  

 ** _Who the fuck do they think I am?_**  

 ** _Also, they’re used to it_**  

 _So_  

 

Peter tried to type the next sentence 5 times, each time erasing it. Eventually, he phrased it differently. More factually. 

 

 _there was a mugging_  

 _I webbed the guy_  

 _But he got free_  

 _Shot the other man before I could stop him_  

 _karen called an ambulance_  

 _he was okay, but_  

 

There was no reply for a minute, during which Peter muttered, “Shit, I hate myself, why did I say that,” and stared dejectedly at the outline of a carbon atom on the board at the front of the classroom. 

 

A thought echoed around his head, the same one that had been plaguing him for days - maybe he shouldn’t even  _be_  Spiderman anymore.

 

 _TS is typing_  

 ** _that really sucks_**  

**_it’s hard when people get hurt_ **

****

Peter stared at the screen for a while. Tony hadn’t immediately said it wasn’t his fault. Peter would have been angry if he had, because it _was_. Peter had been overconfident and in a hurry, and it hadn’t occurred to him to double check his webbing – he’d never had a problem before. If he hadn’t been there, the man would probably have handed over his money and been fine. Maybe. There was always the chance a mugging could go bad anyway, he could admit that. 

 

 _I should have been better_  

 _Faster_  

 ** _Hmm_**  

 ** _Maybe_**  

 ** _…_**  

 ** _Shield tried to get us to do reports_**  

 ** _But they were mostly bullshit_**  

 ** _Now I talk things through with Rhodey when I can_**  

 ** _Like, what could I do better?_**  

**_or maybe I need to upgrade something?_ **

**_But…_ **

**_maybe there’s nothing more I could have done_ **

**_Could do that with you?_**  

 _With Colonel Rhodes?_  

 ** _With me_**  

 ** _Rhodey’s awesome_**  

 ** _But you can’t have him he’s mine_**  

 ** _Maybe we can come up with some ideas_**  

 ** _Or figure out training that might help_**  

 

The bell rang, Peter’s head jerking up at the clamor. Almost instantly, loud chatter filled the hallways, and he stumbled to his feet, pulling his backpack up with him. He slipped out of the classroom, head down as he moved on autopilot to his locker. 

 

“Pete!” 

 

Peter turned with an awkward smile as Ned came up alongside him, out of breath. 

 

“Where were you, man? I thought Flash had done something horrible to you. Or maybe aliens had come down to take you, and you were busy fighting your way free on their spaceship, because I know you wouldn’t go down easy, but-“ 

 

“It’s cool,” Peter said. “I just needed some time to think about something, sorry.” 

 

“Think about something?” Ned waited for a moment, then prompted, “What?” 

 

Shutting his locker again, Peter shrugged. “Just stuff. Nothing to worry about. We should get to class.” 

 

“Stuff,” Ned echoed, sounding disappointed. “Sure.” 

 

Peter half pulled his phone out of his pocket and angled it to check as they walked. No new messages. Tony was waiting for him to think about it. A warm little glow fizzed against the bad feeling in his stomach. Tony respected him enough to let him decide what steps to take.

 

It wasn’t like nothing had gone wrong for him as Spiderman before. It’s just that usually it was Peter that got hurt. That felt more okay – you made a mistake and you suffered for it. Someone else getting hurt was really bad, and brought to mind some of the earliest things Mr Stark had said to him, when he’d taken the suit away. But this time… this time Tony was suggesting how to improve things, so that he’d worry less about making mistakes. And it made sense, trying to figure out what had gone wrong. Sometimes he talked things over with Karen, after an evening out, but not this one. This had felt too… too much. He’d learned a lesson – always check the webbing was secure. Otherwise? Mr Stark was right. Maybe he could think about other training or upgrades to help ensure bad guys stayed down. Talking it over with Tony would definitely help, even if the idea also gave him weird visions of a teacher telling him everything he’d done wrong. Tony wasn’t like that. And Tony said that he did it too, with the Colonel. And maybe, maybe…

 

He flicked back up the chat to Tony’s block of text.

 

**_maybe there’s nothing more I could have done_ **

 

\-----------------------------------

 

The End


End file.
